How To Save A Life
by Chloe Chamberleign
Summary: Skittery never meant to fall in love with Stephanie Conlon. He never meant to ruin her life. Or Spot's life. Or his own life. Find out just why he's always so negative and "glum-and-dumb."
1. Chapter 1

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._ Those are the only words I ever knew for three years of my life. _I'm sorry, Stephanie. _The words still echo in my ears. _I'm sorry I caused your brother pain. _Sometimes, I wonder if he was right. I wonder if I really was a mistake. _I'm sorry I didn't do anything. _I often think of going back. _I'm sorry I was never useful to them._ But all I'd see are the faces of those who never wanted me. _I'm sorry I'm not lovable. _All the scars of what happened waiting for me. _I'm sorry I caused trouble for your daughter. _I walk through those places in my mind. _I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough. _I wonder what's become of those people. _I'm sorry about Fitz. _The sight of a little boy looking down from my bedroom window. _I'm sorry you couldn't rely on me. _I still have dreams about what happened. _I'm sorry I couldn't get you out in time. _

My name is Henry Conrad, and this is my story. Most of you don't know me, unless you know my nickname, Skittery. I'm not well-known like Spot Conlon or Jack Kelly or even David Jacobs. But I don't like being the center of attention, never have and never will.

Ever wish you could go back in time and undo your mistakes? If only you hadn't lied to your best friend about something, he or she wouldn't have stopped talking to you. Or you never would have stolen that item from the store if you'd known you'd be caught and punished. If only you hadn't made those bad choices, maybe your ex-best friend would have comforted you now because something awful in your life just happened. Or maybe you'd be studying to get a college degree in law instead of waiting for court sessions that would find you guilty for stealing.

The mistakes that I would undo aren't as nice as those mentioned before. I would do anything to travel back in time and make things right. But what if I really could go back? Would I be able to keep her alive...or is her tragedy part of my future?

Sometimes, I just don't know what really happened anymore. Some of it, I half remember. The rest I took from dreams.

I have lived in New York nearly all my life. At least, for as long as I can remember. I felt lucky to be part of such a special place. I loved New York City summers best of all. I loved my old house - it smelled like vanilla and my mother's perfume. My older brother, Fitz, had his hilarious side - he was the one who would mess with me and then I would get even. My mother would tie our legs together with some rope and make us walk around like that all day. And if we fought, we'd get another day. Once we ended up being tied together for a whole week. It got so bad, I began following him around out of habit.

My father was the best man in the world. Always loved me and Fitz and mother. I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. We weren't a wealthy family, but we weren't dirt poor either. We didn't live uptown, but we didn't live in the Five Points either. We lived in Manhattan on the upper east side. We were a loving family, and life wasn't perfect all the time, but it wasn't bad either. Fitz and I sold papers, and Mama and Papa owned their own little butcher shop below our house.

And then she came into my life. Two words: Stephanie Conlon. I was fifteen when I met her. Stephanie was fourteen, a mere year younger than I was. Her honey blonde hair wasn't curly, but had waves. Her cerulean blue eyes would gaze deep into your soul. I didn't know a lot about her family. I knew she had a mother and father and a brother my age named Kyle, better known as Spot. I can still paint her picture clear in my mind: She had a heart-shaped face, bow-shaped lips, and a lithe figure. I had reasons to love her and reasons to fear her. I had learned from the other newsies that she was known for her sexy and vengeful nature. If that was supposed to scare me, it didn't work.

She was ambitious. I'd be lying if I said she didn't get her way. Her brother ruled Brooklyn with an iron fist. He went through hell and back protecting his little sister from something that happened when he was little. I've heard stories that it had something to do with his father, but then again, rumors were common. I respected Spot and forced myself to not even look at Stephanie when I saw her on the street. I didn't talk to her. I knew if I did, she'd pull me in somehow. And how right I was.


	2. Reasons

Of course, Stephanie was _Stephanie_. She had her loving side. You know, the girl who would listen to your problems and give you advice. She was the only one you'd go to when you needed someone to talk to. But in a strange way, I was scared of her. She was Spot Conlon's sister. Spot was just terrifying. He did it all. Kidnapped other newsies, stole from vendors, and ran his borough like a military fortress. I know what you're thinking: what a screwed-up jerk. And everytime I looked at him, I knew he was ready to strike again. He didn't care who got in his way. If you said something wrong, your ass was going down. Even with that thick Brooklyn accent, he still scares the living daylights out of you. Hell, he could even make the act of hawking headlines seem intimidating. Spot would do anything to get his way.

But Spot had his soft side. We all do. He would smile and laugh and had girlfriends like any other boy. However, when he had an enemy to catch, good God, nothing could stop him. He had a slingshot, he had a whole borough behind him, he could get other boroughs to side with him. Plus, he was the leader. As if to say, "I can get other leaders from gangs to go after you, kid. You ain't got a prayer." On top of that, I liked his sister, which seemed much more vulnerable than any other guy that got in his way. Granted, I was a newsboy like him, but I was just a newsboy. And not even from his borough. I couldn't reason with him. I couldn't hurt him. And all he wanted to do was keep me away from her. If that wasn't scary, I don't know what is.

It was hard to believe that this crazy teenager was so over-protective over his sister. But, in a weird way, I could identify with him.

And now I, Henry 'Skittery' Conrad, am ready to tell you the story of what happened during the summer of 1897.


	3. Mornings

Manhattan, New York 1897

* * *

"Alright, boys! Carry the banner, sell the papers! Sell the papers!" I heard Kloppman's voice loud in my ear. He wasn't next to me, but he might as well be. I could hear his voice from across the bridge. I refused to open my eyes. Last night, I had a late night selling papers and almost didn't make it in for curfew. Of course, it really didn't matter if I didn't make it in time. I wasn't like the other boys. Fitz, my older brother, and I have a family. We have Mama and Papa, and they would welcome us home anytime. But the reason we choose to stay at the Lodging House is because it's not only convenient, but we might get teased for being mama's boys. Fitz couldn't live that down, and neither could I. Sure, they knew we had folks, but we never really talked about them.

We went home on weekends, unless it was a long day Saturday. Sundays, we came home for sure. Mama always makes us a special dinner with any left over meat from their downstairs butcher shop. We give them any money we have left over. I know Mama and Papa are proud of us for making our own money, but I know they miss us, too. I can see the hurt in Mama's eyes when we have to leave for the rest of the week.

I have the bunk below Fitz's. Next to ours is Blink's and Dutchy's. Dutchy is Fitz's age, and Blink is my age. His full nickname is _Kid_-Blink, but we all either call him Blink or Kid. He's fifteen, but I'm older by a month. Oh, and did I mention I hate the mornings? Worst part of my life. Waking up as early as hell. I'm pretty sure roosters in the countries get to sleep in an hour later than we do. Fitz rolls out of bed as easily as if it were a slide. I, however, take some prompting.

"Come on, boy," Kloppy says. Now he's right by my ear. I moan and roll over.

"Five more minutes," I grumble.

He wakes the others up. Like Fitz, our leader, Red, takes only two seconds to get out of bed, wash up, get dressed, and get out the door. Jack is more like me, he takes forever. Kloppy gets the younger kids up. They wake up like little chipmunks: wide eyed and chatty. "Good morning!" Boots chirps, running around the bunkroom. Oh Lord. A noisy morning is worse than a normal morning.

Kloppy begins shaking me. "No, no, no," I mumble as he shakes me back and forth, refusing to open my eyes.

"Come on, Skittery, just jump out of bed and say 'I love the morning!'" he says. This is kinda a joke, cause he knows I hate the morning. With my eyes closed, I reach up and feel his face.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Lookin' for the off button," I mutter. He pushes my hand away.

"Oh, no. You don't want to be late for the papers." I respect his patience for me.

I groan and roll over again. I hear him sigh as he sits down on my bunk bed. "Don't make me get the water-bucket..." he says so only I can hear.

My eyes pop open and I sit up and turn to him. "You wouldn't."

Jack runs by me, his night clothes drenched in water. He's shivering as he says, "Oh yes he would!"

I turn back to Kloppy who's smiling evilly. "I'm up!" I yell, throwing the blanket back and jumping out of bed. It's cold in the room but I race to the washroom and freshen up. Then I get dressed.

"Hey little brother!" Fitz calls as he ruffles my hair. I groan and smooth my hair back out. He can be so annoying. Just because I'm younger, doesn't mean he can treat my like I'm Snipeshooter's age. Red and Fitz and Dutchy and Specs all walk out together to the distribution office. I trudge behind with Blink, Jack, and Mush. Snitch and Bumlets are talking about what a lousy headline yesterday was and how they hope it's better today.

Whatever. I don't care about the headlines. I care about making money for my parents.


	4. Meet for the very first time

After selling papers, Mush, Jack, Blink, and I headed over to Tibby's - a restaurant that might as well be one hundred years old. We sat down at our usual booth in the back corner and ordered lunch.

Blink starts talking about some girl him and Mush saw in Central Park. I nodded and let them continue while Jack asked questions. The bell above the door rings and in walks Red, our leader, followed by none other than the almighty Spot Conlon. Even though Spot was younger than Red, he's still thirty-two flavors of toughness. If that doesn't scare you, he constantly swings back from sensitive and kind straight to gladiator of doom. Actually, for me, his screaming and yelling always seemed a bit comforting to whenever he's nice and pleasant because it really gets me on edge. Like, there's always a catch. And I know pretty much anything can set him off.

However, I find it's much more threatening when someone with his personality loves you rather than hates you. So, I pity the poor girl who ends up with him.

Red and Spot exchange a spit-in-the-hand thing and then sit down and talk real low. And who joins them but Blade. I shiver. Mush, Blink, and Jack stare at them with uneasiness. I have a sudden urge to break for the door, but I stay put. The only person the Manhattan newsies fear more than Spot is Blade. After all, what's not scary about a murderer, rapist, hand-to-hand combat idol, breaking and entering expertise, and being a complete psychotic nutball?

The kid is a sadist, plain and simple. He's not in it for the money or any kind of physical reward. For the most part. He's in it because he simply loves to do wrong, and sees an almost artistic life to it all.

He's a savage beast, but he's got the most charming smile. He feeds on the innocent, but is still intelligent and well spoken. I can think of two things that scare me the most about him: One is his age. The idea that a person this young would be doing so many terrible things is pretty disturbing. The second is just how much he enjoys it. The smile on his face is just pure delight. He is in heaven. There is no remorse on what he is doing. For him, causing people pain is like reaching the Holy Grail of Joy; all hail to you, your painfulness.

Unlike Blade, Spot sorta just keeps you guessing and guessing. You can't figure out if he's a good guy, a bad guy, an innocent pawn or an evil plotter. All you know is that he's obsessed with keeping his borough on top, and the less you know about that, the better.

Every time you see him, you get nervous; you can't tell if he's just a poor soul or a time bomb waiting to go off.

I know nothing about Blade's past, family, or friends; I just know his goal is just to simply spread chaos. He's like a demon that can't be destroyed, but the most disturbing part is, he makes it sound like he shouldn't be destroyed, like he's part of the grand plan. He makes it sound like its the natural order, that he's humanity fully realized.

I don't know if he was born that way or had to go though some sort of crazy series of events, but either way, he's bad news. But there's hints of a dark reality that lies in him too, and I think that's where the real fear comes from.

Unlike Blade who wants to be anarchy and misery, I think Spot feels he _has_ to be anarchy and misery, like there's no other choice. That's just another level of depression to add to him.

Spot doesn't really smile _that_ much, so he's not fully enjoying what he's doing. It's like a strange fixation that if he doesn't do certain horrible things, the world will be thrown out of alignment. Much like Blade, we don't know why he's come to this conclusion, but it's pretty obvious nobody's changing his mind.

But you just look at Blade and you think unpleasantness. How does he see the world where he feels he has to do these things?

Anyway, we watched them talk for a while. They didn't even order anything, just sort of sat there and talked. And talked. And talked.

I got kind of bored, but as soon as a bunch of girls walked in from church, Jack, Mush, and Blink jumped up and went over to talk to them. I rolled my eyes and hung back. I had ordered lemonade and the waitor came and set it on our table. It had a straw, which I was glas of, for the glass rim was dirty.

Jack hurried over and smiled. "Hey a bunch of us are heading over to Medda's this evening. Wanna go?"

I looked over at the girls Mush and Blink were talking to; one girl with dark hair smiled at me and waved. I shrugged. "Sure..." I said to him. Jack grinned and walked back over to the others. I frowned, realizing I now have to go to Medda's, which I found to be pointless and stupid.

"Glum and dumb, today?" a foreign voice asked from what seemed next to my ear. I looked up from stirring my lemonade with my straw. A girl with golden hair and deep blue eyes peered down at me. Her smirk looked familiar. Ohhh. So this was the infamous sister that Spot allegedly had. Huh.

I nodded and she slid in the booth across from me where Jack and Blink were sitting. "I'm just tired, but I got invited to some party..." I muttered.

"Who's party?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, Medda...something?" I tried to remember that woman's last name.

The girl smirked. "Medda Larkson." she said, very matter-of-factly. "I'll be there, my brother always goes." She moved her glittering eyes to my drink. "Lemonade?"

"Yeah," I blushed. "It's my favorite ever since-" I stopped. I couldn't say 'ever since my mother made it for me on my fifth birthday.' I'd sound like an idiot.

She waved a hand and smiled. "It's my favorite, too. And I'm dying of thirst. Do you mind?" she asked.

I shrugged and pushed the glass over to her. "Go ahead,"

She smiled and sipped out of the straw. Then she stood back up and leaned over the table. "I'll see you there,"

"I know who you'll be," I said, leaning back.

She smiled.

"I'm Skittery, by the way," I said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I know who you are," she said, smirking. "I'm Stephanie." And then she was gone. Out the door.

How did she know who I was? Did she have her brother figure out who every single newsie in Manhattan was? That didn't matter. I was going to see her again.


	5. I Didn't See Her

I looked down at the cobblestone as some of the other newsies and I walked to Irving Hall. I can't say I was terribly excited about going, but I was a bit enthusiastic to see Stephanie again. The place was crowded with other children I knew. The place was was warm and full of music and life. I watched as my brother and his friends merged into the crowd of others. I hung back, for I was never an outgoing person. I'm still a bit shy to this day.

I nestled myself in a green chair in the far off corner of the place. Looking around the hall, I saw cheery faces radient with smiles and laughter. A gentle hand fell on my shoulder. I flinched and looked up into the laughing blue eyes of Spot's sister.

"Feeling lonely?" she asked in her raspy voice.

I shrugged. "Nah," I didn't know what else to say to her. I felt the room get one hundred degrees hotter. I took out a cigarette and a lighter. When I flicked the lighter on, I saw her cringe and flinch. When she saw the flame, she jumped back and her eyes flashed something. I paused, releasing the lever so the flame went out. "You okay?" I asked her.

She didn't say a word. Then her face went back to her usual calm and confident expression. "Of course, I'm fine," she smiled, brushing a strand of golden her behind her ear. I decided not to smoke, seeing how the reaction to the flame spooked her so.

She sat down on my lap, which surprised me a bit. "So," she cooed, "how are you?"

I shrugged. "I'm all right. And you?" Small talk. This was something I wasn't good at.

"_Iontach_," she said in a language I could not understand. "Fantastic," Stephanie took my hand and squeezed. "How's life?"

I stared at our entwined hands, blushed, but kept holding on. "Good." Or scary. Or at some moments, like a horror novel. "Confusing, but good."

"Maybe we can fix that," She whispered. She reached into her sachel and showed me the top of a Jack Daniel's bottle. "Stole it from my brother. Wanna help kill it with me?"

I gazed at the female Conlon version of my worst nightmare. Her hair was pulled off her face, and she wore a simple black sleeveless shirt and a forest green skirt. She looked elegant but fun - way more fun than just sitting in a corner all night.

"Why not?" I answered, and followed her towards a table where others were gathered.

I sat down, and she sat back down on my lap. Jack looked over and greeted me, as did the others. No one said anything to Stephanie. They didn't even look at her. They were probably scared of what Spot would do. Then I remembered. She's sitting on my lap. What would Spot do to me? I glanced over and saw him across from another table, chatting with Red. Stephanie didn't look at all fazed.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "He won't see me."

Spot looked over at the table I was at, but he didn't say anything. Then, just my luck, he came over. I thought I was dead. But he walked right past me and sat next to Jack, followed by Red.

Sure enough, she was right. Spot didn't even acknowledge her. Maybe it was just because she was his sister, and they weren't close. I looked at her, confused. "I'm surprised he didn't kill me,"

She giggled. Jack looked over. "Did you say something, Skitts?" he asked me. I shook my head quickly. "Oh," Jack scratched his head. "Never mind."

Stephanie and I talked the rest of the night. When it was time to leave, she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks," she said.

I smiled and nodded. While we were walking back to the Lodging House, Blink turned to me. "Who were you talking to tonight?" he asked me.

I shrugged and smiled, "Her name's Stephanie...Conlon," I said. Blink raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, I didn't see her. She must have gotten up when I looked over." He said, and then ran over to catch up with Mush.

I froze and bit my lip. Something was wrong with that story: Stephanie never got up, for we talked all night.


End file.
